Up the mountain, towards the enchanting forest, Ranson howled to the moon as he ripped the last head of the thirty-second warrior that had waited in ambush, and had pounced on him the moment his daughter darted back for the village. He knew their plan, to stop him from protecting his daughter while the mistress does to the girl whatever that pleases her. If only Anna had trusted him and not taken that rash decision as she had done, now he had no idea what she was facing down there at Nezmae.
He howled again to the moon above, feeling totally helpless. And then, he raced for Nezmae, on all fours, with a speed that looked like lightning. He was incredibly fast. From a distance, his wolf ears perceived the galloping sounds of an approaching wagon. “That must be Anna,” he thought aloud. Quick
